


like the day i fell in love for no reason

by banditchika



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditchika/pseuds/banditchika
Summary: A collection of Bandori drabbles.Latest: Afterglow and Sayo go out to eat. Moca decides it's the perfect time to propose to Tsugu.





	1. tsugusayo, cheek kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsugumi, Sayo, and graduating to the step past handholding.

Sayo is asleep. 

She's asleep in the most _Sayo_ way, head bowed and hands laced primly in her lap, looking as though she could wake up, rise from the couch, and continue on with whatever task she'd left off on at any moment. 

Tsugu leans against the back of the couch and takes her in. A strand of hair has slipped out of place, swaying with her soft breaths. Tsugu tucks it behind her ear, trying so hard not to brush Sayo's skin that she doesn't notice she's holding her breath until her chest begins to ache with the lack of it.

Tsugu coughs as quietly as she can. Thankfully, Sayo doesn't shift, and Tsugu pillows her cheek against her arms to watch her rest. 

Not in a creepy way! Just to admire her, because Sayo is pretty. Really, really, pretty, and Tsugu's not just saying that because she's—well, not so much so. There's a reason why she's the one that their fans don't really pay attention to after lives, after all. Tsugu's the member with the least presence; she can't compare with Ran's fire, Tomoe's roguish confidence, Himari's brilliant smile, or Moca's easy humor. 

She's just Tsugu. Just the girl next door, if she wants to make her life like one of Himari's romance novels. 

Sayo, though; Sayo is really something else. Afterglow shares performance nights with Roselia sometimes. They usually open for them, warming up the audience for whatever bands CiRCLE or other live houses have in store for the night. Ran chaffes a little under the implication that they're not _good_ enough to be the headlining act, but Tsugu doesn't particularly mind. They've come so far for amateurs, and they're only going to get better and better. Tsugu's sure of that. She just has to be patient and work harder, so that when the time comes that Afterglow stands onstage as the highlight of the night, Tsugu can be a keyboardist that the other girls will be proud of. But for now, she's more than happy to sit in the wings, playing imaginary notes against her thighs and waiting, waiting, waiting. 

Pre and post show activities aren't all sitting around, though. Sometimes, she gets to watch Sayo and Ako play!

Sayo has never been more like herself, nor more different, than when she’s onstage. All of Roselia transforms when they're playing, of course, but Tsugu likes what performing brings out in Sayo the most. Onstage, Yukina comes alive, transformed from a sullen upperclassman whose name never left the lower tiers of her year's test scores to a tiny girl with a voice so powerful that it explodes out of her, whipping the audience into a frenzy. Even friendly, dependable Lisa changes once she's got a bass in her hand, tossing her hair and glancing out into the crowd from beneath her lashes in a way that makes even Tsugu's mouth go dry.

And Sayo? Sayo is so _intense_ , fingers dancing over frets so quickly that in the dim lighting of the live house, her movements seem to blur together. She finishes every song with a flourish, throwing her arm out like she's daring the audience to find a flaw in her playing. (They never do, of course. Sayo is her own harshest critic, and sometimes Tsugu just wants to take her hands and... um. Take her hands, because they haven't really gone past that point yet.) But for all the fire that seems to burn up within her when she performs, it's still her Sayo—that is, the Sayo _she_ knows. A little pensive, a little stuffy, and underneath it all, immeasurably kind. 

She's really fallen hard, hasn't she? Tsugu's never felt this way about anyone before Sayo. Tsugu has always stood on the sidelines while Moca was blowing raspberries against the corner of Ran's lips and Tomoe and Himari gave each other googly eyes while pretending they weren't. 

But when she's with Sayo, it's like all the feelings she missed out on come at her with a vengeance. She tosses and turns in bed every night before a baking lesson, so excited at the thought of seeing Sayo's face that she can't seem to lie still. She wants to hold Sayo's hand, like, all the time, which is kind of a problem when she's working and Sayo comes in for a cup of tea and everyone's watching, but her fingers still itch to be intertwined with Sayo's. 

She just... really likes her. Sometimes Sayo gets this look on her face when Tsugu curls close, like she can't believe that this is happening to _her_. Sometimes Sayo will give Tsugu her hand and then apologize for reasons that change day by day, but always boil down to the same thing: _"I'm sorry that it's me."_

It kind of hurts. Sayo once told her that her talent is to see the good in people, but Tsugu just wishes she would believe her when she says she sees nothing but good in Sayo. 

The slope of her nose, the planes of her cheeks, the sharp line of her jaw. Tsugu's kind, fussy, and sensitive Sayo. 

Pure impulse and affection, jabbing sharply at her chest, drive Tsugu to lean over and brush her lips against the soft skin of Sayo's cheek. 

"... Mrgh."

Tsugu freezes. Sayo's cheek feels very warm. Tsugu almost trips over herself backing away, and, oh geez—

Sayo's brows are furrowed, lips quirked as if she's not sure whether to smile or frown. Her cheeks are very, very red. Tsugu's are probably much the same, and she slumps down on her knees, clinging to the back of the couch for dear life. 

"Ah... so you were awake, Sayo-san." 

"I-I was. Sorry."

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing..." Tsugu's face feels like it's on fire. She presses it against the sofa; just because Sayo must be used to seeing her blush up a storm doesn't mean that Tsugu wants her to see! Going blotchy red every time Sayo so much as smiles at her isn't something Tsugu's proud of, but. That's how her mother made her, so...

"... Hazawa-san."

Cool hands brush the sides of her head, the heels pressed against the tips of her too-warm ears. A faint pressure touches just above her brow. The scent of Sayo's perfume lingers, familiar and sweet. 

"Thank you," Sayo murmurs into her hair, "and good morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you sarah for always providing the good tasty prompts!! n thank u miki for beta-ing this drabble i'm so glad you caught that Awful Sentence Structure Error, jesus
> 
> this prompt is also based off of [ this](https://twitter.com/kimino107/status/984053612069310464) n i can only hope this was as fluffy as the comic was because whoo... that's a lot to love.


	2. tsugusayo, (hey girl, ratpiss)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa has Sayo's phone. Lisa sees a series of questionable texts from Tsugumi to Sayo. She of course endeavors to make it worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to miki and sam for like half the content in this fic—ake credit for this, it's all on you. it's all on you.
> 
> pls don't take this too seriously; its a meme fic that went resulted from my buddies n i being terrible in GC—still, i hope u enjoy it!! we're very funny people n i think this is like, at least a 3/10 on the funny scale

She shouldn't be doing this. 

She really, really, really shouldn't be doing this, but—

She has to know. Oh, the _things_ Lisa has seen today; she can't go on with the rest of her life without investigating this, because... 

Because there's just no way. Hazawa Tsugumi? Rosy-cheeked, wide-eyed, dimpled Hazawa Tsugumi? The school council's darling and all-round cherubic sweetheart? 

Lisa can't believe it. There's no way that Hazawa Tsugumi just...

She glances down at the phone and _geez_ , she feels like she just peeped on someone doing—um. Like she saw something horribly inappropriate. Which technically, she has. 

**Tsugu** : hey baby!  
**Tsugu** : send nudes? ;>

Lisa peeks again at the screen and gulps. She half expects Sayo to come crashing through the door, brandishing her guitar and howling loudly enough to put a shounen protagonist to shame, but nope—it's just her holding down the studio. Sayo's talking with Marina with the rest of Roselia and paying Lisa— and the fact that she's left most of her private life in the palm of her hand—no mind. 

Normally, Lisa would be out there with them. A large part of her still feels like she should be; feels that this is definitely an invasion of privacy, and that the reason why Sayo's left her phone with Lisa is because of trust, and _Sayo_ trusting her? Well, that's solid gold right there. 

But this situation is anything but normal. Damn. How did comparing recipes and ingredient ratios turn into this? This has to be a joke, right? 

She would have let the phone return to its lockscreen and joined Roselia outside had LINE not pinged just before Lisa could click the power button, and Lisa had learned more about her dear, sweet underclassman, and her seemingly-ever-reliable bandmate's relationship than she ever wanted to know. 

... Well, she says that, but now that she's seen it, she doesn't think she'll ever be able to look at either of them the same way until she's _sure_. 

**Tsugu** : ... sayo-san? :<  
**Tsugu** : baby?

It's like a little devil and angel are sitting on her shoulders; Devil Ako (because it's kinda fun to put a face to the warring parts of her conscience, and because Ako would probably appreciate it) tackles the ever-moral Angel Sayo off her perch, and before Lisa can second-guess herself, her fingers are flying across the keyboard. 

**Hikawa Sayo** : Alright. What level of undress are you expecting?  
**Hikawa Sayo** : Gravure, topless, or full-frontal nudity?

Lisa hesitates. She's too terrified to scroll up and see if Sayo and Tsugumi really were exchanging— _oh man, she can't even think it_ —really were doing _that_ , but maybe... maybe if she's a little sneaky, she can satisfy her curiosity and delete the messages before Sayo sees them. It's underhanded and dirty and she feels weird and bad drawing _this_ as her moral line, but. Listen. Her curiosity has to be satisfied.

She keys in her last, killer line: the final blow. 

**Hikawa Sayo** : Or perhaps, Tsugumi-san... you want something else today? 

_Read at 4:20._

Three dots appear beneath Lisa's message, and Lisa's heart plummets to her chest. What has she done. She has to apologize to Afterglow right now, immediately. Like, right this second. She has Himari and Tomoe's phone numbers. She can totally send an apology essay and like, supplicate herself in hopes of mercy.

Oh, oh, oh boy, oh—oh _no_. Lisa's face is on _fire_ while Tsugumi types. She did not think this through. This was a mistake. 

She should have just dropped the phone and pretended she didn't see anything, or 'fessed up at the beginning and not be able to look either Tsugumi or Sayo in the eye. Sayo's going to kill her. She's going to have Lisa stand at one end of the studio and just—just _hurl_ her guitar at Lisa with her usual terrifying, uncanny accuracy, and Lisa's too pretty and too gay to die like this! 

Her only consolation is that Sayo probably won’t end her with a bullet. Lisa's defied most lesbian stereotypes but the big U-Haul and being in love with her straight best friend; she's not about to start racking the rest of them up _now_. 

**Tsugu** : yo woah  
**Tsugu** : uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

... Wait. Wait a second. 

Lisa squints at the phone. Tsugumi doesn't talk like this. At least, Lisa's pretty sure she doesn't. The girl radiates good vibes and puppy energy and—seriously, it's an effort to restrain herself from patting Tsugumi's head whenever they run into each other in the hallways. There's no way someone that sweet and kind and bright types like this. Lisa can practically smell the weed. 

**Tsugu** : ok lmao ill just b really honest with u sayo san  
**Tsugu** : this is aoba moca afterglows guitarist  
**Tsugu** : were at tsugus cafe rn n she left her phone w us while shes on shift  
**Tsugu** : i was just messing around pls dont actually send nudes  
**Tsugu** : at least until tsugus here u kno. u do u in private

Moca. _Moca_. Of course it's Moca. 

A sigh shivers out of Lisa. She's saved! No death by guitar from Hikawa Sayo. Kind of. Sort of. Maybe. 

Death by teasing from Moca, though; that's a possibility that's growing more concrete by the second now that she's the one holding someone's—that is to say, Lisa's—life in her hands. 

Moca's still typing. 

**Tsugu** : if u dont mind me saying tho  
**Tsugu** : rlly didnt expect yall 2 have gone so far n stuff  
**Tsugu** : i mean hiichan n tomochin play gay chicken all the time so its not like no one in afterglow sends nudes n stuff (dont tell them i said that~ pls~)  
**Tsugu** : but tsugus like our baby u kno  
**Tsugu** : n also our grandma who we love very much n tell all our problems 2  
**Tsugu** : so uhhhhhhhh  
**Tsugu** : wasnt expecting this at all but dam tsugu get it  
**Tsugu** : pls dont get mad at her or kill me xoxoxo moca

Moca doesn't type again. Lisa wonders if she's feeling the same trepidation that Lisa did when she waited for "Tsugumi" to respond. Moca kind of actually has feelings, sometimes, so there's a definite possibility that even she is sweating—but also, it's Moca. She might really be ready to face the consequences for her actions (read: guitar duel with Sayo, except they're actually swinging at each other with their instruments) and expects to come out the winner.

 **Hikawa Sayo** : Ummm Moca??  
**Hikawa Sayo** : This is Lisa  
**Tsugu** : oh shit lisa san  
**Tsugu** : that was u?  
**Hikawa Sayo** : Yeah~ hahaha~  
**Hikawa Sayo** : Sayo was showing me something on her phone and then ran out to do something for the band. I was going to put her phone away but then I saw your message and  
**Hikawa Sayo** Well...  
**Hikawa Sayo** : I won't tell Sayo if you don't tell Tsugumi  
**Tsugu** : got it  
**Tsugu** : ill eat the evidence lisa san dont worry theyll never have 2 kno  
**Hikawa Sayo** : Ahhh!! T-T  
**Hikawa Sayo** : I'm so relieved!! Thank you Moca!

Lisa starts to delete her messages. Tsugumi's texts begin to disappear as well. She's really glad that the app shows no records of deleted messages because—whoo, boy. 

**Tsugu** : slurp slurp  
**Tsugu** : sorry u had 2 deal w this lisa san  
**Tsugu** : see u at work tmrr

Lisa sends, "Yeah see you!!" as Moca's last texts begin to disappear. 

With everything cleared, she tosses the phone into the depths of Sayo's school bag and perches on the stage, face buried in her hands. Ugh. Ugghhh. _Uggghhhhhhh_. This is karma. Karmatic punishment. She's been too nosy and too meddling and this is her punishment. 

She's definitely smudging her makeup right now, but after everything that's happened? She deserves it. Consider the lesson learned, because from now on, Imai Lisa is going to be a model citizen. She's not going to bother with other people's business, she'll keep her head down and just focus on bass, and school, and work, and clubs—karma had its kiss out for her this time, but she's not gonna give it another reason to try again. 

Lisa peeks through her fingers at the door. While Sayo looks as pleased as she ever gets outside of texting Tsugumi or doling out rare, rare bits of praise whenever they play particularly well, Yukina's got a certain... _expression_ on her face. It's the one she gets when someone's put bitter melon on her plate or told her that _no, you can't go to the park, it's the middle of the night!_

She wonders what Marina's told them that has made Sayo so pleased and Yukina so... not. 

... Okay, fine. Maybe she'll meddle a little more after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> both moca n lisa probably go to their next shift dreading having to see each other bc while it was only for like, 10 seconds, they Did end up flirting heavily w each other thru proxy n that's awkward no matter how powerful of a lesbian you are. then they see each other n just burst out laughing n it becomes a Running Friendship Gag, because of course it does


	3. tsugusayo, monster/paranormal investigator au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsugu's fallen in love with a monster. She doesn't regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is part of an unnecessarily elaborate AU where afterglow's a fairly popular paranormal investigation group who keeps running into Actually Supernatural Phenomenon--one of which includes tsugu's girlfriend, the local lake cryptid. this is... a Lot spicier than what actually goes down in the AU but just know. know that tsugu has no shortage of sweet sweet cryptid ass
> 
> edit: now with [ fanart](http://lunar-earth-apple.tumblr.com/post/176049955268/a-comic-based-on-my-friends-tsugusayo-fanfic) from the very lovely, very wonderful moony!! thank you for my life honestly

The lake is peaceful and still during the day, bottle green and flat as a mirror. It's been that way for as long as Tsugu can remember, the perfect place for her to rest and play and contemplate when the noise of her daily life grows too much to juggle, even for her. She has good memories of dipping her feet in when she was littler and disrupting the lake's glossy, perfect surface with her enthusiastic splashing. 

She's a bit more careful about that nowadays. It’s harmless, she knows, but there’s a difference between cooling off in the lake and tromping through what’s basically its resident’s living room with her shoes on.

"Hello?" The woods thrum with life around her; chirping birds, buzzing insects, and beneath it all, the nearly-inaudible song of the magic that keeps the forest a safe haven for _somethings_ just beyond human reckoning. But the person that Tsugu's looking for, more special to her than all the magic in the woods combined, is nowhere to be seen. "Sayo-san?"

Tsugu sets her backpack on a flat boulder a safe distance from the lakeshore and pads to the edge of the water. She carefully folds her legs beneath her, reaching out to skim her fingers over the lake's surface. "... Sayo-san?" 

The ripples from her fingertips travel out to the center of the lake, but the waters remain still despite the gentle disruption. Tsugu can see her face reflected in its surface, the exertion from the hike and the heat pulling down the corners of her mouth. A few strands of hair have escaped her cap and stick to her sweaty cheeks and brow. 

She's kind of a mess. It's to be expected, considering that she's been running through the woods in the middle of the summer, but, well—Tsugu's only a girl. And any girl would want to look good for a date, right?

The lake ripples, distorting her image. Tsugu scrambles to her feet as the lake seems to gather itself. She's reminded of when she used to help her parents change the sheets on their bed, taking the blanket at each corner and heaving it up, then down, the blanket bulging like a parachute before settling flat against the mattress. 

A row of spines bursts out of the water and surges to the lakeshore. Tsugu clasps her hands over her collar, mouth dry. It's an impressive sight. No matter how many times she sees it, her heart can't help but try and punch out of her chest. 

But not because she's scared, oh no. Tsugu makes a living out of running towards the scariest things she (or Moca) can find and still managing to hold a camera steady. There're still plenty of things out there that make Tsugu's teeth chatter, but not this. Not _her_.

Sayo could never frighten her. 

Water streams from her spines as she emerges from the lake's depths. They fan out, a shimmering blue in the afternoon light; the droplets of water trapped in her fur gleam like jewels, and she is beautiful. So beautiful. 

Sayo pads out to the shallow ends of the lake. Her tail whips behind her, sending a lash of water soaring through the air. Just like the first time, and every time since, Tsugu's awestruck. Sayo's pointed ears prick at the sight of her. Her tail lashes again, and the transformation washes over her like a ripple. 

One moment, Sayo is something almost like a big dog—triangular ears, long muzzle, sharp teeth—and then she is a girl, with teal hair spilling over her shoulders and skin like leather. Beautiful, so beautiful. No matter what form she takes, Sayo's the loveliest thing that Tsugu's ever seen. 

"You—" A cough breaks her words in two. Sayo touches her throat with fingers tipped by long, black claws. They're deadly sharp. Sayo has never so much as pricked her with them, not even once. "You came,” she says, voice hoarse from disuse.

"Of course I did. I promised, right?" Tsugu can't stop grinning, cheeks warm with something more than the sun. Sayo's smile bares the faintest trace of thorny white teeth before she presses her lips together, remembering herself. She admitted to Tsugu, once, that she didn't want to frighten her. But Tsugu doesn't mind at all! She adores Sayo, sharp teeth and all. In fact, she kinda wants to ask Sayo if—if she would... that is, she wouldn't mind at all if Sayo happened to leave a mark or two. Sometimes. Only if she wanted to, of course. If she were in the mood. 

... This probably isn't a train of thought she should be exploring when Sayo is standing right in front of her.

"Tsugumi." 

"Ah! Oh, yes!" Her face is on fire, and Tsugu's never been so desperately _glad_ that Sayo's repertoire of abilities doesn't include mindreading. Sayo's special in a way that would make Moca beg for Tsugu to pull out her camera, but not _that_ kind of special. "I zoned out for a moment there, sorry..."

"No, please don't apologize." She wades out of the water. Tsugu's not the tallest person, but in this form Sayo positively towers over her. While she can't be sure of her exact height without a tape measure... um. Sayo's big. Really big. Tsugu has to crane her neck up just to meet her eyes, and oh geez, is there _a lot_ to look at on the way up to Sayo's face. "I'm very glad you've come." 

She cups Tsugu's cheeks. Gentle, always gentle. Tsugu closes her eyes and leans into her touch. The palm of her hands and the pads of her fingers are rough—not quite leathery like the rest of her skin, but tough and a little spongy, like the pads of a dog's paws. 

Sayo's thumbs trace circles against her skin. It feels nice; so nice that it's an effort to get the words out of her throat: "Did you—did you miss me?" 

She pauses, before one large hand slides down to cup the nape of Tsugu's neck. "More than you can imagine."

"Oh." Tsugu’s smile stretches so wide that it aches. She’s a college graduate, and while ‘camera woman and video editor for viral paranormal activity video channel’ isn’t something that her mum’s ready to admit to the relatives, Tsugu considers herself a productive member of society. (Kind of. She’s got a job and she’s getting paid, right?) 

But Sayo makes her feel like a gangly teenager again, enamoured, stammering, and almost stupid with love. "I - I… um, I didn't really think about what to say if you said yes." 

If this were a shoujo manga, Sayo's response would be something like, "You don't have to say anything at all." There’d be sparkles and roses blooming in the background. Then she'd tilt Tsugu's chin up, lean in, and then... 

It’s usually around this point that Tsugu would slam the book shut, saving the page with her thumbs but too embarrassed to peek again until just before bed, when no one else is awake to see her flushed face or scold her for reading something so trashy now that she’s a bonafide _adult_. 

It’s so cheesy. Super cheesy. 

But this is reality, not a shoujo manga, and Sayo's a lake guardian who's sometimes a girl and sometimes not-quite-a-wolf. She doesn’t need embarrassing lines. She bends down, close enough that Tsugu can see the shimmer of wiry spines in her hair and at her temples.

Sayo smells like lakewater and mud. Her kiss, thankfully, tastes much, much better. Tsugu rises on tip-toes and strains closer. 

She’s soaking wet, but Tsugu’s gotten used to bringing a spare change of clothes whenever she comes to the lake. And, um, it’s not like she’ll be keeping this set on for much longer anyways, so the discomfort of her shirt sticking to her skin and the slide of lakewater down her skin is only temporary.

Sayo croons softly, the purr of it rattling around in her throat. The sound isn’t entirely human, and something electric jolts down Tsugu’s neck, her spine, like the water dripping from Sayo’s hands. 

Tsugu’s fingers brush against the raised spines along the nape of Sayo’s neck, the knobs of her spine. They shiver, standing up at her touch. Sayo groans, a series of chirping clicks trapped between her teeth as Tsugu chases her down, down. 

It’s good. It’s familiar. And yet...

Thinking of Sayo as just a lonely girl who likes to be touched would be the mistake of Tsugu’s life. The way her eyes flash; the immaculate condition of her knife-like teeth; the ease with which she can lift Tsugu in her arms... it’s impossible to forget that Sayo isn’t human. She’s something right out of a storybook, the perfect embodiment of everything that she and Moca and Ran and the others have been investigating for _years_ now.

Sayo would never hurt her. Never, never, ever—she hadn’t the first, awful night they met, and she’s hasn’t so much as scratched Tsugu since. But a tiny part of Tsugu can’t ever forget that as gentle as Sayo is, there’s a side of her that isn’t the pensive, sensitive girl that lets Tsugu lay her down against the grass and trace patterns against the wiry muscle of her back.

Sayo has those teeth and claws for a reason. She still remembers how Sayo towered over her that horrible night, limned by the crash of lightning in the sky and barely visible through sheets of pouring rain and howling winds. Tsugu had been frightened. She’s not afraid _now_ , and Sayo has never given her reason to be since, but, but, but—

Some things are just impossible to forget, no matter how sweetly Sayo kisses or how tenderly she reaches for her. Tsugu’s taken the wolf and the girl to bed. She can’t ever forget that—doesn’t want to, not so long as she’s determined to keep Sayo her secret, to trap her gasps in her mouth and stay hidden from the rest of the world.

Sayo’s wonderful. Lovely and darling and kind, and—and Tsugu’s never had a secret just for herself, before. Nothing so beautiful or so special as Sayo. She wants to keep things just the way they are, for now. Sayo and Tsugu, coiled around each other by the lakeside—-the same as always, hidden from prying eyes. 

* * *

It’s only later, much later, when Tsugu’s head is pillowed on a pile of her discarded clothes and Sayo’s curled around her like a very big, very muscular blanket, that she remembers that she came here with something other than a—a booty call? A booty call in mind.

“Ah, Sayo-san!” She reaches for her bag. Sayo lazily lifts her head off Tsugu’s chest, eyes slitting in the late afternoon light.

“Hrm…?”

“Ah, geez, it’s probably mushy now, but… I brought you something! I didn’t mean to get so carried away earlier, um...” Tsugu pulls out a takeout bag and carefully tears it along its edges. Sayo smiles as Tsugu hands her a disposable tray of soggy fries, the paper translucent with grease. “I’m sorry, I-I know you really like them.”

Sayo coos, pleased. She brushes a strand of hair from Tsugu’s face, the scrape of claws against the tender tips of her ears sending a shiver down Tsugu’s spine. “Please don’t apologize. It’s…”

She clears her throat and glances away. The spines in her hair and along her spine flex, then fall flat again. Cute. Cute! Ahhh, cute! “I like that you think of me, even when I’m not with you.

She doesn’t have the right to be flustered after what they’ve just done, but here she is. Blushing. No regards given to propriety or appropriate levels of embarrassment here, nope. “Ah… I’m glad. Still, they musn’t be very good now. Y-you don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, Sayo-san. I’ll bring you something that won’t get soggy easily next time.”

“Tsugumi… if you’d just come, I’d be happy no matter what.”


	4. chisato - misakanon; unrequited love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be a sad day when Chisato could wish for their happiness.

She had someone.

_She had someone._

The thought burned in Chisato’s chest, a hard, sour thing.

Kanon was so beautiful, blue and cool and flushed against the aged wood of Hazawa Cafe’s interior, but Chisato couldn’t find it in herself to appreciate it, to let her gaze drag down the curve of Kanon’s cheek and the sweet, shy quirk of her lips.

She couldn’t even take another bite of her cake. It was a pity—the Hazawas made the best tiramisu. Chisato sipped her tea with numb hands, but the oily, coiling ache behind her ribs was impossible to soothe.

She had someone. _She had someone_ , and that someone wasn’t Chisato.

Why did she open her mouth and ask? These cafe dates were supposed to be soothing; her one balm when the stress of her scripts, her life, and even Pastel*Palettes grew to be too much. Chisato supposed it was better to know, but when she closed her eyes she saw it seared against the backs of her eyelids—the way Kanon’s eyes had widened, then dropped to the still surface of her steaming teacup. How she’d smiled, cheeks flushed, and traced a finger against the table. Chisato had asked, but she wasn’t prepared to receive an answer.

Kanon was so tender, so bashful. Love had brought the best of her out to bear, and Chisato imagined that the person Kanon longed for must be just as warm, just as good.

Chisato hated it, and ached with the guilt of hating it.

 

* * *

 

Chisato was better than this. She could be kind for Kanon; Kanon, who deserved to love and to be loved—Kanon, who never had a bad thing to say and a gentle heart and—and everything that Chisato never was and would never be.

She could be kind. She should be kind.

She shadowed Kanon to the tennis courts anyways.

Chisato huddled away in the shadow of the equipment shed. It was rather conveniently placed by the restroom, and Chisato had a dozen well-practiced excuses for if someone stumbled across her, or if Kanon turned her head and saw Chisato staring her way.

Not that it would happen. Kanon’s attention was wholly focused on the court, the wind teasing her hair away from her face. Chisato squinted. It hurt to look at her, she was so lovely.

Or perhaps it was the sun in her eyes. She never was one for the outdoors, except when she walked Leon.

Kanon, though?

Kanon gleamed in the sun, bright and warm, like a piece of the too-blue sky had splintered and fallen to the earth in the form of a girl. She looked beautiful. She looked _perfect_. Chisato could practice for hours trying to imitate the sweetness of her smile or the tenderness of her gaze as she looked to the tennis courts, and never even come close.

It burned Chisato to see her so in love, but she couldn’t stop staring. Kanon would never look at her like that. She knew that now, deep in her bones, and as much as the thought sent a spike of something hard and cold and cruel through her chest, melting into ice that steeled her spine—she couldn’t look away, and etched the memory of Kanon’s love into her heart.

In the mottled shadow of the court’s fencing, Kanon perked up. Her hands were clutched to her chest, and Chisato found her own resting above her breast, a pale imitation of Kanon’s delight. Someone nudged the wire fence open—they weren’t particularly tall or shapely, but Aya meeting one of her idol heroes couldn’t have looked more delighted than Kanon did.

Chisato knew who it was before the fence clicked shut.

A tiny part of her had realized she’d lost Kanon the day she had leaned back her seat, smiled sweetly, and pumped her fist into the air with a “Happy! Lucky! Smile!” falling from her lips. Chisato just hadn’t wanted to admit it.

And now… now….

Chisato couldn’t do this. She couldn’t pretend to be Kanon’s best friend, to be _kind_ —not when the agony of knowing she _lost_ pierced her straight through, from the crown of her head to her toes, nailing her in place. She wanted to go. She wanted, desperately, impossibly, to turn back time and go back to before Kanon had met Hello Happy World.

A hot flash of selfish desire burned in Chisato’s chest, then drowned under an ocean of cloying guilt. Jealousy. It was wreaking havoc on everything Chisato knew about herself. She loved Kanon. She loved Kanon so much, but not enough to be happy for her—to wish her well when Kanon was so clearly, utterly besotted. This was the worst and truest part of Chisato. The part that no amount of Pastel*Palette’s warm regard and a mantel full of acting awards could fix.

What an awful idea. She should have gone straight to practice. Wrestling Hina’s latest mishaps into some semblance of order would have been better than seeing Kanon today.

But Chisato couldn’t move. Compulsion glued her feet to the concrete even as Kanon approached, her soft, fine voice lilting and bright. Someone else’s low drawl joined hers—tired but attentive, like they were hanging off of Kanon’s every word.

Chisato knew who it belonged to. They were familiar enough to greet one another in the halls, after all.

But things had changed, and Chisato had to see for herself. She knew Okusawa Misaki, but she wanted to see the face of the girl Kanon had fallen for. What did the girl Chisato had lost to look like? What did Kanon see that Chisato didn’t?

She crept further into the shed’s shadow as Kanon and Misaki rounded the corner. Kanan was… oh, _Kanon_. She was ethereal, her arm looped through Misaki’s, the sunlight gleaming in her hair and smile.

Misaki, too, was lovely. The admission came easier than expected, considering… considering a lot of things. Misaki was sweaty from practice and flushed from the heat, the beginnings of a sunburn across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her collar was damp and stray hairs clung to her neck where they weren’t sprouting at angles from her ponytail. She was probably smelly, too.

But Misaki was also smiling unabashedly, and Chisato recognized that look. It was the way she always smiled when she was with Kanon—and that alone made her beautiful to see.

They passed by, too engrossed to notice her in the shadows. Chisato tore her eyes from them; she couldn’t stand to see their shoulders brushing, the perpetual slump of Misaki’s broad shoulders straightened with Kanon by her side.

That space was _hers_. It had been hers for years, should still have been hers. But Misaki filled it like she was meant to be there; Kanon trailed her hand down Misaki’s arm, and Chisato could only watch as Misaki wound their fingers together. A perfect fit.

They left her there, breathing in the stale scent of the rusting shed. Chisato pressed her fingertips together, willing them to stop trembling.

She should have told Kanon sooner. It would be a sad day when Chisato could wish for their happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is really melodramatic; this is what happens when i want chisato to experience some Sad Teen Feelings n practice a new writing style, ig


	5. hhw, the issue of aya and chisato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ayachisa are dating, and kanon finds out. that's not really important, actually—hello happy world has a way of taking over everything, as kanon quickly realizes.
> 
> or: Aya and Chisato are dating. Kokoro has thoughts about that, somehow.

“Oh, Shirasagi and Aya-senpai?” Misaki asks, scratching her cheek. “Yeah, I’ve seen ‘em together sometimes. Just yesterday they were holding hands near the tennis courts. But they… uh…”

She flushes and looks away, the corner of her mouth hooking into the beginnings of an embarrassed smile. “Shirasagi-senpai pushed Maruyama-senpai against the equipment shed, and that’s about when I stopped looking. That’s the first time I’ve ever seen them do something like that, though.”

Kokoro twirls by. Her hair is a fanning curtain of gold and smells like something sweet, but too expensive for Kanon to name. She throws herself over the back of Misaki’s chair, arms coming round to rest on Misaki’s shoulders. “Oh! Are we talking about Chisato and Aya?”

“O-oh, Kokoro-chan. Yes, we are.”

Kokoro nods sharply and Misaki winces, pushing her away from where she’s resting her cheek against her head. “Your chin is really pointy, Kokoro…”

“But I saw Chisato and Aya doing this the other day, and it looked really comfortable!” Kokoro thoughtfully presses her chin into the back of her hand. “Hmm… maybe Aya’s chin isn’t as sharp. Or Chisato has a thicker skull? Kanon, what do you think?”

“Um, well… Chisato-chan’s skull is like anyone else’s skull?” Probably? Kanon’s never thought about the condition of Chisato’s head, beyond admiring the results of years of expensive skin care, makeup, and Chisato’s own natural gleam. “And Aya-chan’s chin is a nice chin. At least, I think so…?”

She doesn’t like this topic. It’s not like they’re bad mouthing Aya and Chisato or being rude, but something about it just feels… weird. Like she should apologize to them the next time they run into each other for gossip crimes.

Kokoro shrugs, having forgotten the status of her chin. “Why are we talking about them, again? Oh, is Pastel*Palettes doing something interesting?”

Misaki glances at her a little helplessly. “Er, Kanon-san didn’t say…” When Misaki looks at her like that, Kanon really doesn’t have a choice but try and leap to her rescue. Emphasis on try. Kanon thinks that she’s pretty ineffectual, but Misaki’s made it clear that it’s the thought that counts.

“I’ve just been hearing a lot about them lately. Around the school, I mean.” Not that she eavesdrops on purpose! It’s just that sometimes, when the sun shines bright on the trees dotting Hanasakigawa’s campus and Kanon, eating lunch on a bench dappled by shade, happens to be sitting near a bunch of gossipping first years… well, a girl hears things. Intriguing things. _‘I’m not sure I should be hearing this about my best friend and her band’s vocalist’_ things. “A-and I was just wondering if anyone else knew that they were dating? Because I wasn’t too sure. Chisato-chan doesn’t really talk about this kind of thing,” Kanon adds.

“Ahh, so it’s like that, huh?” Kokoro taps a fist into her palm. “I understand everything now. Yeah, they’re absolutely dating!”

“And you know this… how?” asks Misaki, a little perturbed. “I didn’t think you paid enough attention at school to notice Shirasagi-senpai and Maruyama-senpai, much less what their relationship is...”

“You can see everything from the roof!” Kokoro proclaims. “I was there last…” She purses her lips, deep in thought. Kanon and Misaki glance at her, then at each other.

Three, two…

“Nevermind when!” Kokoro says, clapping her hands together. Her smile is dazzling. “I saw them holding each other near the place where they shoot things.” She mimes drawing an arrow back and firing with what Kanon is pretty sure is terrifying accuracy, considering that Kokoro has probably never held a bow in her life. “They were smiling! I was really glad.”

“Oh, that’s good. Chisato-chan deserves to be happy,” Kanon’s mouth moves too fast for her brain to keep up with, and she claps both hands over her face. “Not that Aya-chan doesn’t as well, but—!”

She flounders. “It’s just nice to hear, is all.”

The door creaks open. “Ah, are we talking about Chisato and Aya?” It’s Kaoru, who’s sparkling in the light shining through Kokoro’s obscenely clean ceiling-to-floor windows.

Literally sparkling. Is that… glitter in her hair and dusted over her uniform? Kaoru spreads her arms out, flecks of gold raining from her shoulders to the gleaming hardwood floors. “One of my little kittens was inconsolable when the rumor of their relationship reached her ears. So much so that, while painting a prop, she threw herself into my arms and spilled glitter all over the stage… and me.”

“Oh…” Kanon wonders how Kaoru hasn’t breathed in some of the glitter and choked yet. It’s everywhere. Kaoru just walked in, and already Misaki, who hasn’t budged at all from her chair, is surreptitiously picking bits of gold off her uniform. “I-is it a big thing in Haneoka?”

“Alas, no. It is as the Great Bard once said: all that glitters is not gold. Perhaps this,” Kaoru gestures to herself, sending a cloud of shimmering color into the air. Kokoro claps approvingly. “... Will come into fashion, but at the moment? I am its only, if unintentional, model.”

“I think Kanon-san meant Shirasagi and Aya-senpai, but alright…” Misaki gives up on her uniform and settles for standing up and going to the other side of the room. Kaoru takes her vacated seat, and out of the corner of her eye, Kanon spies a black-suited woman crawl on all fours and sweep up the glitter she left behind with unnerving speed.

“Ah, that’s right. No, it isn’t common knowledge. A few of my little kittens are fans of Pastel*Palettes and Chisato, and while they suspect, it is only rumor and hearsay.” Kaoru shrugs grandly.

“But isn’t it lovely? The warmth of young love blossoming between bandmates… a forbidden romance, shadowed by secrecy… ah!” She clutches her chest. “I can only hope to convey even an ounce of the passion Chisato and Aya must feel to my little kittens. How fleeting…”

“I guess that must be a good thing, huh?” Misaki muses, catching Kanon’s eyes. She tilts her chin toward Kaoru. “We see them around school, but it’s not like what they do together is out of place at an all-girl’s school. Not counting yesterday, I mean.” She flushes again. “I don’t really keep up with that stuff, but dating as a celebrity’s pretty rough, isn’t it?”

“Mm, I think so…” Chisato really doesn’t talk about this stuff, but Kanon’s gathered enough about the entertainment business from their years of friendship to know that dating is almost as taboo as doing… _drugs._ “I’m glad then. I don’t mean to gossip about them, b-but… I’m really glad that they seem happy together. I hope they get to be happy for a long, long time.”

Misaki flashes a smile her way; a real smile, not hidden by the shadow of her cap or her own hand. Kaoru’s approval radiates off of her in very dashing waves, and Kanon is feeling very warm and very good about herself when Kokoro slaps both hands against the table.

“I got it!” she cries, and clambers onto the table.

“Ah,” says Kaoru, leaning back in her chair and doing everything she can to avoid looking at Kokoro’s bare legs. She’s staring at the ceiling so intently that one could be forgiven for thinking there’s a passage of Nietzsche printed on the creamy wallpaper.

“Oh, boy,” Misaki sighs. She pushes off the wall to stand in front of Kokoro with her arms outstretched, the world’s only living, breathing, 157 centimeter tall safety net.

The door bursts open. “Sorry I’m late!” Hagumi gasps, shouldering into the living room. A duffel bag bangs against her hip. “Practice ran over—!? Kokoron, what are you doing on the table!?”

“Hagumi! Just in time!” Kokoro plants both fists on her hips. She’s glowing. She’s radiant. She’s going to say something that’ll have Kanon sweating through her uniform. “We’re going to date every girl in Hanasakigawa!”

“W-we are!?” Hagumi clutches at her chest, eyes wide. “How!? I only have two hands!”

“ _That’s_ the problem here?” Misaki groans. She rubs her brow then waves, drawing Kokoro’s attention to her. “Alright, now how did you come up with this brilliant plan?”  

“Chisato and Aya are happy now that they’re dating, right? They’re smiling a lot because they love each other!” Kokoro opens her arms wide, as if to embrace the whole mass of the world. “So if we date every girl in Hanasakigawa, they’ll all be a lot happier too! Smiles all around!”

“A splendid plan!” Kaoru throws herself onto the table and kneels at Kokoro’s feet in a shower of glitter. She swings one hand out, the other resting just above her heart. “Loving women… cherishing them… truly, there is no more worthy pastime. Respecting so many women at once will be difficult, but no task is too daunting for Hello Happy World.”

Hagumi raises her hand. When Kokoro points at her, she begins to rock on her heels, chewing on her lip. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before. How am I supposed to date an entire school? And what about Haneoka!? I don’t want them to feel left out!”

“You’re forgetting that some girls might already be dating other people and don’t want to share,” Misaki adds. “And that some of the students might be…” She wrinkles her nose. “Straight.”

“... Straight?” Kokoro asks. Kokoro never frowns, not really, but the way her smile melts off her face and her brows knit together is as close of an approximation as anything. “What’s that?”

“T-they only like people of the opposite gender,” Kanon says, because Misaki looks too miserable to explain and Kaoru’s frowning as though she’s never encountered a more difficult concept. Even Hagumi's making a sour face. “So, um, that might be a good thing? Straight girls will shrink the dating pool a little…”

“Well, yeah... but size isn’t the issue here! Those are all peripheral problems! We can’t just date a bunch of random classmates—Kaoru-san isn’t even from our school! Her fans will riot!”

“That’s why we should date the students of Haneoka, too! The ones that aren’t… straight,” Kokoro says, like she’s trying the word out on her tongue. Kanon has seen her deliver speeches on the fly that have sounded more practiced than that one sentence.

“I’m telling you, that’s not possible…”

“Kokoron, I think I agree with Mii-kun,” Hagumi says. She’s staring intently at her hands. “Two schools is a lot of girls…”

 _“Thank you,”_  Misaki sighs. Kokoro still looks unconvinced, but the knowledge that there are girls who might not like girls seems to have knocked the wind from her sails. She flops down on the table, legs dangling off the edge. Misaki grunts, surprised, but relaxes now that Kokoro isn’t in danger of cracking her skull.

“How about… oh, ‘Romeo’!” Kokoro throws her arms into the air. “We’ll be like Kaoru and become princes! Girls can come to us, instead!”

“I guess that _would_  weed out all the taken and straight girls…” Misaki mutters, then pinches her brow. “Wait. Wait, I’m not going along with this. New angle or no, this is still a weird plan, Kokoro!”

“How so? Don’t you want to make girls happy, Misaki?”

“I—well, yes, of course I do!” Misaki says. _‘Doesn’t everyone?’_ goes unsaid. “I’m just saying that it’s super weird to start being... ‘Romeos’? Like, what’s that even supposed to mean? And we’re a band first and foremost. How are we going to find the time to date the students of two schools with Hello Happy activities?”

“We can do it!”

“Look, if you want to put on some kind of ‘Romeo’ event…” Misaki sighs, taking Kokoro by the shoulders and nudging her into a proper chair. Misaki’s tired drawl finds its stride as she wrangles Kokoro into some semblance of a working plan.

Kanon can’t help the smile that pulls at her lips as she watches them. This isn’t what she expected when she agreed to play with Hello, Happy World!, but now she can’t imagine them any other way, chaos and all.

“So then, Michelle slides down the banister in a prince outfit…”

Though Kanon has to admit: she would be okay with a little less chaos, sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> n thats how the hello happy host club started
> 
> this is based off a prompt from pow, aka fallouise on ao3. she writes amazing hhw and ayachisa fics, n u should go give her work a Luq n comment!!
> 
> the prompt in question is "ayachisa unknowingly as the power couple of the hanasakigawa second years" n what's my response?? 4 sentences of actual ayachisa n 90% hhw making gay jokes LMAO
> 
> it was originally meant to b a parody of the "regina george?? i heard her hair's insured for 10k" scene from mean girls but w/ ayachisa n the hanasakigawa cast, but i started the story off with hhw n that's when the fic stopped being under my control. still, i hope y'all enjoy it!! everyone loves a good straight joke right


	6. tsugusayo + afterglow, moca's awful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afterglow and Sayo go out to eat. Moca decides it's the perfect time to propose to Tsugu.

"Love of my life," Moca said, and sank down on one knee. 

Himari's hands flew to her mouth as she glanced between Moca and Tsugumi. "We're doing this here!? Right now? Like, in front of—in front of Sayo-san?"

"Oh, boy," Tomoe sighed. 

Ran didn't bother with words. She buried her face in her hands rather than look, and Sayo wanted desperately to join her.

"Um," replied Tsugumi, patient and effortlessly kind. She smiled at Moca as if this had happened before. Having familiarized herself with most of Afterglow’s antics, Sayo was certain it absolutely had. "No matter how much you compliment me, I'm not lending you allowance money for manga, Moca-chan." 

"Who said anything about manga~? Maybe Moca-chan just wanted to show her appreciation for the prettiest girl in the room."

Ran sighed. Tsugumi patted Moca’s hand with almost grandmotherly affection.

"Sayo-san is right next to me, you know. I think your aim’s a little off." 

“... Tsugumi-san, that’s not—I’m not—” 

Moca raised Tsugumi’s hand and put it to her cheek. Sayo took a deep, deep breath and stared at her plate of fries with conviction. Reasonably, Moca was one of Tsugumi’s oldest friends and was entitled to be  _ friendly _ , so long as she respected Tsugumi’s boundaries.

Also reasonable was the urge to put a foot on Moca’s knee and push. Tsugumi was  _ her _ girlfriend. She stammered through the tensest five minutes of her life to be able to say as much. What has Moca done to deserve Tsugumi’s attention? Be one of her closest friends and confidants for the vast majority of her life? 

Sayo stuffed a forkful of fries into her mouth. Hm. Perhaps it was time to stop thinking about it. 

Moca, oblivious—or perhaps not very oblivious, if the way she was making  _ very deliberate eye contact  _ with Sayo was any indication—pulled a twist tie out of her pocket. She bent it into a circle and slipped it onto Tsugumi’s finger as though it were a ten-carat ring rather than a cheap sandwich bag sealant. 

“Sayo-san’s great to look at,” Moca declared, and Sayo might have taken her seriously if she didn’t sound like she sniffed glue for a living. “But you, Tsugu, are my one and only. In a room full of pretty girls, I don’t see anyone else but you~”

“That one actually wasn’t too bad,” Himari whispered, spraying cake crumbs into Tomoe’s ear. Sayo pretended not to hear her, and Ran, whose face had made its own loving union with her palms, shook her head. 

Tomoe took a sip of her soda and smacked her lips. “I think you’ve been watching too much late night TV.” 

“Tsugu,” drawled Moca, looking far too pleased by her audience. Her eyes were bright and laughing beneath her shaggy bangs. “Please make me the happiest woman in the world. I’ve always dreamed of being Hazawa Moca, so please do Moca-chan a favor and let me be your trophy wife~” 

Sayo jabbed a fry into her ketchup and imagined it was Moca’s grinning face. Tsugumi glanced at her and laid a small, soft hand on her bare knee. 

“Moca-chan,” Tsugumi said, and Sayo had never seen  _ that _ particular smile before, too sharp and angular to fit well on her sweet, round face. “I know you and Ran-chan are going through some things, but please stop prepositioning taken girls.” 

Himari and Tomoe burst into a chorus of  _ oooh _ -s. Moca clutched at her heart. Ran seemed about to fuse with the tabletop. 

“Tsu-u-u-ugu, that’s so cruel~” Moca moaned. She fell over in the aisle, and a passing waiter gave them a  _ look  _ as he stepped over her. “You’re not the woman I fell in love with~” 

“Probably ‘cause you’ve only had eyes for Ran since the day you met her,” laughed Tomoe. She nudged Himari, who knocked her shoulder against Ran’s and nearly sent her spilling out of booth. 

It was the last indignity Ran would suffer. She lifted her head, and Sayo was struck by the fire in her eyes. For a moment, Sayo forgot that Ran was a repeat truant and Yukina’s one and only rival. (What was up with that, actually? It had lost its importance to Sayo sometime between learning the warmth of Tsugumi’s hand in her own and the first, soft press of her lips against Sayo’s.) 

In this moment, Ran was ready to kill. Sayo was certain of only one thing: Aoba Moca’s time in this world had come to an end.

“That’s it,” Ran growled, yanking Moca up by the hood of her jacket. She muscled her back into the booth. Tomoe folded in on herself, squished up against the wall by the force of Ran’s indignity and Himari, forced into her side by Ran’s sharp elbows. “You’re being a nuisance. If you want manga money, I’ll lend it to you.” 

“Hm? Ran, but Moca-chan just said she wasn’t after manga money—” 

Ran slapped a thousand yen bill into her palm.

“—but if you want to give it to her anyways, feel free~” Moca sang, sliding the bill into the pocket of her hoodie. 

“Stupid,” Ran sighed. “... Don’t bother Tsugu next time. Just ask me.” 

The done, Moca leaned her head against Ran’s shoulder. She had another twist tie in her hands, and as Sayo watched, she twisted it into a loop and slid it over Ran’s fourth finger. Sayo had never seen her so tender. 

Then Moca opened her mouth. “Thank you, Sugar Ran-mmy.”  

“Shut up. Never speak again.” 

“Love you too~” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "i don't know how to write in third person and at this point im too scared to ask," the writing exercise


End file.
